


Dark Paradise

by Lexalovey



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Abuse, Anal Sex, Blood, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 00:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10451364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalovey/pseuds/Lexalovey
Summary: Aerith finds Sephiroth as he enters the Lifestream and realizes the depth of Jenova's power. Gaia and Aerith send Sephiroth back to a very angry Vincent Valentine for some answers, and they realize what has been missing all along.Explicit erotica, NSFW. Includes light BDSM, alcohol, and Virgin!Sephiroth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to the official Silver Elite (https://silver-elite-official.tumblr.com) for the idea about Sephiroth not being able to recognize facial expressions, and several other interesting viewpoints regarding everyone's favorite Silver General. Amazing blog.
> 
> Credit to Sushi_Vandal on AO3 for beta reading & editing.

_There’s an art in seclusion, production in depression  
If a stranger turns up missing, this song is my confession  
Tell the tales of the trail of dead, lovers learn from slower hands  
Losing self in myself  
Inner demons make demands.  
_ \- “Reclusion”, Anberlin __  
  


 

                Light.

                Bright light.

                His mind immediately snapped back to when he was a child - every time he woke up in the lab with scientists staring at him, every time he stared into the bright lights above the autopsy tables that Hojo preferred to conduct his experiments on. 

                Bright light.

                What happened? Where was he? He looked for Hojo, but that didn’t feel right, Hojo had been years ago...it had been a very long time since any man had held him in thrall, right? Genesis, he thought next. Angeal? Zack?

                Bright light.

                No, they were all gone, too. Genesis and Angeal, but what had happened to Zack? Where was Zack? Where was _he_?

                A soft voice came in his ear. “Shh, it’s okay.”

                Jenova?

                “Jenova is gone…”

                Can you hear me?

                “I can hear you. It’s me, Aerith. Do you remember me?”

                Aerith?

                “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me, you killed me, silly!”

                Oh gods…

                “It’s okay,” the voice soothed. “Can you talk? Just try.”

                “…am…I…” he choked out

                “Slowly,” she encouraged. “Take it slowly. You’re okay. I’m here. Take a deep breath and try again. It can be hard when you first get here.”

                Her calm, soothing voice was sort of annoying, because he certainly didn’t need someone to mother over him, but a bigger part of him was grateful she had shown up, even if he didn’t really remember her. Aerith?  The name triggered a vision of pink. Flowers? Water?

                “Am…I…dead?” the once great Silver General summoned up all his energy to cough out those few words.

                “Well, yes,” she said, sounding apologetic. “I mean, it isn’t as black and white as that, but you are part of the Lifestream now. It’s hard to get used to. The past and present get kind of muddled.”

                “I…killed you?”

                She paused. “Well…yes.”

                He got the sense she was holding something back. “Did I kill…many?”

                “It’s a little more complicated than that, Sephiroth.”

                Him, a General? _Murderer?_   “How…what happened? I _killed_ you? Why are you helping me?” he was suspicious, and confused. It felt like his boyhood self was staring at him, wondering what had happened. It felt as if every moment of his life had been leading up to something, only to take a horribly, sickeningly wrong turn. Confusion wasn’t a good feeling for Sephiroth. Confusion was weakness, and like all weaknesses, it had been beaten out of him at a very young age.

                “I knew I was going to be killed. I came to terms with it. And, well, once you’re in the Lifestream, you don’t really think about what went on before. Everything happened the way it happened for a reason,” Aerith explained. “And, especially in your case, there were…circumstances.”

                “Circumstances for _what?_ ” he demanded, appalled. He had more of a sense of himself now. They were definitely standing up. Standing in a field? Was that why he had pictured flowers?

                “What’s the last thing you remember?” Aerith asked.

                “I was in SOLDIER…I was a First. Commander. No, General. They used to call me the Silver General.” He allowed a brief smile at those days. “I had friends once…Angeal Hewley? Genesis Rhapsodos? Do you…are they here?”

                She shook her head ruefully. “I’m not sure. I don’t know them.”

                “Zack Fair…”

                She paused. “You remember Zack?”

                “Zack is here? We weren’t close…but he was a First, too. Not a Commander like Angeal and Genesis…but he was a strong SOLDIER. He had potential.” Sephiroth milked his memory for the last remaining vestiges. “We…we went on a mission together. To Nibelheim.”

                “Yes…”

                “I found something…terrible…”

                “Yes,” she repeated, her voice very, very low.

                “Fire…”

                Aerith was silent, but the sympathy on her face sent a jolt of pain through him.

                “My…mother…”

                “ _No_ , Sephiroth. That’s not your mother,” she said forcefully. “Jenova was not a Cetra, and not your mother. You weren’t grown in a tank. You were born.”

                “Wh-what?”

                “Jenova was an alien. The Cetra called her the Calamity from the Sky. She intended to destroy the world.”

                His voice hoarse, broken. “Why?”

                “It’s what she did. She was a world-eater. Her goal was to consume all the energy on the entire planet, and move on. Gaia fought her…we fought her… _I_ fought her.”

                “Did I…fight her?”

                Another pause. “Do you remember?” Aerith whispered. “Look at me.”

                Her eyes were green. Her hair was long and brown, and she was pretty. Had he killed her? She certainly looked familiar…

                He saw her on an altar. Praying.

                Sacrifice.

                Himself, from above.

                He watched himself leap down, watched himself run his blade through her pink dress, watched her keel forward like a puppet with its strings cut. Watched her as her last smile left her lips. Other people came up, a blond man, a dark haired girl, they were furious, and he was…laughing? But this girl was so innocent…

                He staggered at the weight of the images. “I murdered you – I stabbed you…how – how could I?”

                “It’s okay, Sephiroth. It wasn’t you. Well, it was partly you. You have Jenova’s cells inside you, because Hojo experimented on you. Jenova controlled you. You looked for answers…but there was nobody to explain anything to you, so you had to draw your own conclusion,” she said, gently touching his arm.

                “And my conclusion involved murdering you? Murdering _many_ people? My conclusion was _genocide?_ ” he desperately asked, knowing this had to be wrong, not him, he would never have failed so terribly, so monstrously…

                “You considered humanity traitors to the Cetra. Because you thought _Jenova_ was a Cetra, and therefore you were, since you thought she was your mother. You were trying to get to the Promised Land. You killed many, but Jenova was the one in control for most of it. Nobody knew how much control she had until you passed into the Lifestream yourself. Nobody knew how she had possessed you. Do you understand?”

                “Then I deserved to die,” the Silver General said flatly.

                “Well, we probably all do, but luckily Gaia gives us chances,” she said cheerfully.

                There was a pause. A flicker of hope. “Jenova was not my mother?”

                “No, you have a human mother. You have Jenova’s cells in you because there were experiments done on your mother.”

                “W-who?”

                “I believe her name was Lucrecia.”

                The name didn’t mean anything to him. “You believe? Don’t you know for sure? You’re dead…”

                “Well, you’re dead, too,” she reminded him. “Do YOU know for sure?”

                “Lucrecia…I don’t recognize it. I did all this for a mother who didn’t even exist…what was my real mother like? All I remember are the labs…” he looked up at her sharply. “How much do you know? I mean…you know I was raised in labs? At ShinRa?”

                “I know about the labs,” she said softly. “And I know what happened there, too.”

                “How do you know all this, but you don’t know who my mother was…did I ever have a family? Was I ever loved?”

                He was so plaintive, stripped of the perfect calm, rigid personality he had perfected before Nibelheim, before his breakdown – stripped of his insanity. He was profoundly human, and it hurt Aerith to see.

                “I know what you know,” she said quietly. “Consciousness and self can get mixed up in the Lifestream, I see some of your memories…and other things have been told to me. But there’s much, much more that I don’t know.”

                “So you really don’t know about her…Lucrecia. About where I really came from?”

                “I’m sorry, Sephiroth.”

                “I have to know,” he said calmly, feeling a little bit more like himself. “I have to know who I am. What I am. Other than, apparently, a criminal.”

                Aerith reached up and touched his face, and he jerked back immediately. When had he been touched kindly? Ever? He couldn’t remember someone ever touching him like that. It was strange, almost maternal. “I know,” she said with sympathy.

                “Can we…can I look for Lucrecia, can I see if she’s here? If she’s dead, right, she might be here too. I could talk to her. Or…I could look for Angeal, and Zack…I could…” he trailed off. There was so much he needed. He couldn’t remember much of his life past Nibelheim, but what he did remember filled him with pain.

                Aerith was shaking her head. “It’s really hard to find people here. Most people don’t care about what happens _on_ the Planet anymore, we are a _part_ of the Planet. People disintegrate into the Lifestream when they are ready, they don’t talk like we’re talking right now. Or their spirit energy is reborn. It all depends on what she decided, what she needed. I only found you because I was looking for your spirit when it entered. I thought …” she sighed. “I _hoped_ it would be part of the Lifestream soon. I hoped they would kill you. And they did.”

                “That group, the one with the Jenova clone in it? Cloud Strife, right?”

                She smiled fondly. “Yes, Cloud. And Barret, Tifa, Cid, Cait Sith, Yuffie, Nanaki…Vincent.” At the last name, she stopped, closed her eyes and raised her face – to the heavens? Were there heavens? Sephiroth was certain if there was any higher power anywhere, he certainly wouldn’t be welcomed, but he could recognize a prayer when he saw one, so he remained quiet until she favored him with her gentle smile again.

                “What, what is it?” he asked.

                “Well, Vincent Valentine might know about your past. He was a Turk, and he loved Lucrecia. I don’t know – he might be able to tell you,” she said thoughtfully. “I asked Gaia to give you a chance. She said your time was over, and it is, but She said you could go back and get some answers. Your soul needs to be at peace.”

                “The Planet sends people back if they aren’t finished with their lives?” he asked skeptically.

                “No, not normally. Only the Cetra can communicate with Gaia on that level that we could ask, and She would answer. But I _am_ a Cetra, and I asked for you.”

                “But I killed you,” he said, stunned. “Don’t you want to ask for _yourself_ to go back?”

                “It wasn’t you, Sephiroth. I forgive you. I would have ended up in the Lifestream eventually, so you shortened my journey a little bit. Zack is my love, my soulmate, and he’s here too. My soul is at peace. There’s no reason for me to go back.”

                “So – go…go find Vincent? Vincent Valentine?”

                “Yes. His father was Grimoire Valentine—”

                “ _Grimoire Valentine_?” Sephiroth interrupted. “Perhaps I do know him. I knew of Grimoire…well, Hojo knew Grimoire.”

                “Are you ready to go back?” she asked. “It’s going to hurt.”

                “I can take the pain,” he assured her. “I was a General.”

                She smiled, a little sadly. “It won’t just be physical pain. Vincent is going to be…angry with you. They will not believe you have good intentions. I’ll appear and explain it to Vincent, but he might dismiss me as a trick of yours. You will have to trust him, because you want him to trust you. You have to be vulnerable. And you have to be ready to learn.”

                “I’m ready,” he said quietly. “Tell me what I need to do.”


	2. Chapter 2

Vincent Valentine was in his room, alone.

                They had just gotten back from their mission that had culminated in Sephiroth’s death and the epic struggle between Meteor and Holy. Midgar was still recovering, but Cloud and Tifa and Barret had all gone back there. Vincent was in Kalm, maybe just for a night or two, maybe longer. He didn’t know what he was going to do, now that the immediate threat was gone. In deference to that, he had taken off most of the armor he tended to wear, only wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt – and his cloak, of course, he never felt like himself without the comforting layer of fabric wrapped around his face.

                He no longer slept in a coffin, no longer shut himself off from the world. But he still felt the need to atone, tugging at him at the edge of his mind. He still knew that everything that had happened, had happened because of him. Sephiroth had been born at all because of that ridiculous experiment with Lucrecia, and he should have protected her.

                Perhaps, he mused, that was part of the reason he couldn’t stand to be with anyone else. He hadn’t been with any woman since he longed for Lucrecia, but he had never had much interest in women to begin with. He had slept with several men, but it never seemed to work out beyond the initial encounter, or perhaps a short period, and maybe that was his punishment for not being able to stop the horrible experiments.  For never doing enough…

                _“Vincent, can you hear me?_ ”

                He heard a voice in his ear, a soft woman’s voice, it sounded like Lucrecia but no – no, that was wrong, it wasn’t her, it was…

                _“Vincent, it’s me, Aerith.”_

“Aerith?!” he exclaimed. “Where are you?”

                Shimmering light, and he could see a vision of her, translucent but happy looking. “ _I’m right here. Can you see me okay?”_

“Yes, but — you were dead!”

                _“I’m still dead, Vincent. I’m a part of the Lifestream, and I’m happy. I watch over all of you, and my heart ached when I saw all your pain. Know that I am happy and my soul is at peace. Tell the others, if you think it would help them.”_

Her voice and likeness were perfect, and it sounded like something she would say – but why would she appear to him, of all people? He had mourned deeply at her death, but they were not as close as, say, Cloud and Aerith were, or Tifa and Aerith, or even Red XIII and Aerith. It seemed unusual that she would choose him to appear to.

                _“This must seem strange, but I actually have a mission for you, Vincent.”_

“Tell me, Aerith. You know that we’ll do anything for you.” This, he meant sincerely. He knew that the others would eagerly jump at anything that would help Aerith rest easier – but hadn’t she said her soul was already at peace...?

                _“It’s about Sephiroth.”_

“Aerith, we killed him. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.  He is dead. With your help, we stopped him in time,” he assured her, surprised she didn’t know, but even after Hojo shot him, he had never been truly dead, so he wasn’t sure how the whole thing worked.

                _“I know. Sephiroth is with me. He was under Jenova’s control, Vincent. Gaia is giving him a chance to find out about his past. He wants to learn about Lucrecia. Will you talk to him, for me?”_ she asked, putting her hand to her chest.

                “ _What?_ Talk to Sephiroth! Absolutely not! Is this some kind of joke?” he demanded. “I’m calling the others.”

                “Please don’t,” a quiet male voice said.

                Vincent spun around, away from Aerith’s translucent form, and saw Sephiroth – and he looked solid as before, flesh and blood…and naked.

                Vincent drew his gun faster than Sephiroth could react, but Sephiroth did nothing but raise his hands to show they were empty. Like that meant anything, coming from a man – a monster – who could use magic without Materia, and control minds… _was he controlling Vincent? Was Vincent hallucinating Aerith?_

_“Vincent, please, it’s Aerith. It’s really me. I was watching for Sephiroth in the Lifestream, and when he passed through, I realized how much control Jenova had over him. If he was truly evil, Gaia wouldn’t have given him this chance.”_

“And how am I supposed to know this isn’t a trick?” Vincent demanded, pulling the safety back on his custom handgun that the others had deemed the “Death Penalty”.

                _“I don’t have any proof. Just my word. But Vincent, he killed me. Would I do this if he wasn’t truly deserving?”_

“I’m not doubting _Aerith,”_ Vincent clarified. “I’m doubting if you’re actually Aerith, or if you’re a hallucination Sephiroth is causing, like he did with Cloud and several other people!”

                Sephiroth covered his face, his long, light hair hanging over it.

                “Oh, now you’re all ashamed?” he accused.

                _“It was Jenova. He barely remembers it.”_

“How convenient.”

                _“Vincent, Gaia made her decision. Sephiroth is there, and I have to leave in a moment. Please promise me you won’t kill him. If he does_ anything _wrong, if he threatens any person in any way, I know you won’t hesitate to kill him. But I swear you won’t need to. Please, Vincent. Please help me. He has questions that I can’t answer – things I don’t know. We need you. I need you.”_

Vincent thought. “What was the name of Cid’s plane and what happened to it?”

                _“The Tiny Bronco, and Rufus ShinRa shot it down so we used it as a boat. Ask me something Sephiroth couldn’t possibly care about or know.”_

He ran his hand down his face, a little embarrassed at being so juvenile, but who knew what Sephiroth knew…”What’s my sexuality?”

                _“Bisexual. You loved Lucrecia but haven’t been with another woman since her.”_

“Who have I slept with?”

                _“I think you slept with Cloud after I died, but I don’t watch too closely.”_

“No, you’re right.” He sighed. “Okay, Aerith. You have to leave?”

                _“Yes. I can’t stay. I can only appear briefly,”_ she said. She didn’t seem sad. A little wistful, maybe, but she really did seem happy. _“Do you trust me?”_

“You, I trust. Him – ” he poked the Death Penalty in the air at Sephiroth. “Not so much. But I’ll talk to him. For you.”

                _“I loved you all very much and I never wanted to leave,”_ she said soothingly.

                “Too bad you were taken,” he said, glaring across the room at the Silver General, who honestly did look miserable. “Aerith, if you can, could you appear at the back room of Tifa’s Seventh Heaven? They love you too, and I know this would mean so much. Cloud, Tifa, and Barret are all there.”

                _“I’ll try. I only have a few minutes. Don’t kill him, Vincent. I’ll know, and it’ll hurt me.”_ And she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

“Put some fucking clothes on.”

                Sephiroth was ashamed of everything he had done, he couldn’t believe the depths of his insanity. But even pre-Jenova Sephiroth was not used to being spoken to like that. He commanded respect everywhere, and Vincent was looking at him like he was garbage.

                “I don’t have anything,” he said coolly. “The Lifestream made me corporeal here. It didn’t include clothing.”

                Vincent stalked over to his dresser, his pistol holstered again. He tossed some black pants and a button up shirt to Sephiroth. As Sephiroth began to dress, he couldn’t help but notice the perfect cut of his musculature. Stupid.  He could feel his inner beasts growling, demanding that he attack the taller man immediately. He tried to quiet them.

                “You’re here to learn about, what? Your mother?”

                “Yes.”

                “The _Planet itself_ brought you back to life so you could resolve your mommy issues?” he said derisively.

                “Aerith told me –  ”

                “Why is your _murder victim_ – one of many, by the way – interceding on your behalf?” he snapped.

                “Which question do you want me to answer first?” Sephiroth said, struggling to remain calm. He deserved this, he reminded himself. The hatred, the distrust.

                They stood in silence for a moment, until it grew awkward. “You’re lucky it’s me and not one of the others. Cloud would have killed you where you stood. He wouldn’t have listened to anyone beg on your behalf. You’re pathetic,” he spat.

                “I know.”

                Sephiroth had his head low again, and the submissiveness of the gesture struck Vincent. From everything he knew – and he knew a lot, having been through as much as he had – Sephiroth didn’t have an ounce of submission in him. Vincent wasn’t sure if this was a reflection of some kind of change in him, an attempt at deceit, or something else…

                Vincent sighed. “I’m not sure why _I_ didn’t kill you.”

                Sephiroth didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, standing straight now. He still had a regal look to him, even in the docile pose he had taken a moment ago. Imposing. Even though he didn’t have anything – not a weapon, not Materia, not even _clothing –_ he still looked as if he could and would pose a threat. Any man would be awed by his aura, his raw power.

                Not Vincent. Chaos screamed inside him, roaring to be let out to kill this disaster of a man – could you even call someone a man once he had been stripped of all humanity?

                Then Sephiroth swallowed. “You still could. I wish you wouldn’t, but…I won’t try to defend myself. You can pass judgment.”

                “We passed judgment once, and killed you,” he reminded him. “Aerith seems convinced you’re genuine. I suppose we can talk, briefly. But then I’m killing you again. You don’t deserve to be on the Planet, enjoying her pleasures, when your victims can’t. Is that fair?”

                Sephiroth bowed his head again in agreement. It seemed so unnatural. How could someone so haughty and proud, with frustration written all over his fine features, be reduced to standing in obedience under a smaller man?

Maybe dying changes a man.

                Vincent shrugged. He wasn’t much for redemption. From his way of thinking, if someone really wanted to change, they would have done it _before_ they lost everything. So if Sephiroth wanted to learn about his past, well, if Aerith and Gaia had blessed it Vincent couldn’t exactly stand in their way. But he certainly didn’t have to enjoy spending his time with the man.

                “I need to understand,” Sephiroth said quietly.  “I have never had a family. I was raised at ShinRa. The reason for that, to my understanding, was because my mother was Jenova.”

                “You have Jenova’s cells in you, but I would not call that your mother,” Vincent said.

                “Yes, Aerith did mention that. So – Hojo – ”

                “Is your father, and he did human experimentation on Lucrecia Crescent and her unborn child and injected the fetus with Jenova cells,” Vincent said flatly.

                “May the gods damn Hojo,” Sephiroth said vehemently. “I had hoped you would tell me he wasn’t actually my father, which would explain a great deal of the hatred he had towards me as a child.”

                Vincent paused. “Hatred?”

                “No, that’s incorrect, I suppose. He didn’t hate me. He just considered me a specimen, and not a very good one half the time at that. I entered the SOLDIER program at twelve. It was a considerable improvement on my time before that point,” he said. He had never spoken of Hojo this much before, but Aerith had told him he had to be vulnerable for Vincent to trust him. Even if he wouldn’t have taken the opinion of some random girl to heart before, she _had_ figured out a way to get him sent back to the world, so he figured he could at least try to take her advice. Even if it burned him.

                Sephiroth probably thought he was hiding that disgust, Vincent thought idly. But disdain and frustration were written all over those finely knit facial features. He wasn’t sure who it was towards – Hojo? Himself, for being in that situation?

                Another thought struck him: before, Sephiroth probably _could_ have fooled him. His emotions _would_ have been fully in check. Sephiroth might not have remembered him, but Vincent Valentine knew quite a bit about Sephiroth, and he knew that his ice cold, professional demeanor was famous for never cracking. So what – another sign that something was different?

                A third thought: those cheekbones looked like Lucrecia’s. Almost like they could cut glass…

                Scratch that one.

                “Uh,” Vincent said, in a rare moment of uncertainty. “Hojo was a mad scientist. He pushed experiments on everyone. Even his so-called lover. He never loved her. He only wanted her for the Jenova project.”

                Sephiroth sat on the bed, looking slightly stunned. “Lucrecia?”

                “Yes.”

                “My…my mother.”

                “She was a very beautiful, very brilliant woman,” Vincent said sincerely. “She was kind. She treated all creatures with kindness. She saved my life at one point, using tools no one even had thought to use.”

                “I have never heard of her. She sounds vastly different from Hojo. I can’t imagine that,” Sephiroth said quietly.

                “She was,” Vincent said.

                “So he…injected her against her will, then? Experimented on her, during her pregnancy?” he looked up at Vincent – a change, since he was much taller than the older man. “That, I can understand. From the moment I was old enough to scream –”

                Vincent’s head snapped towards Sephiroth, and the words dropped off immediately, leaving him with a slight flush on his face, as if he was wishing he could take back his last few words.

                He couldn’t hear this. Vincent just _couldn’t._ After trying to save Lucrecia from Hojo, only to know that she had died due to his inability, to know that a child had suffered too – while Vincent slumbered…oh god, not _more._ Not more to regret. More to feel guilty for. More to atone for.

                And with that in the back of his mind, did Sephiroth have Lucrecia’s eyes, too? Not the color or the shine, that was pure Mako, but the shape, maybe…?

                Sephiroth stood, looking concerned. Vincent immediately reacted defensively, reaching down to his holstered Death Penalty.

                “No – my apologies,” Sephiroth hastily said, running a hand through his long silver hair. “My intention wasn’t to threaten. You looked…ill.”

                Sympathy? From Sephiroth?

                But oh, gods, hadn’t Lucrecia looked at him with that same expression? Hadn’t she found him dying, and stared at him with that look – concerned, sympathetic, but with steel underneath, because Lucrecia may have been foolish, but she was strong, too. And here was her son, _Lucrecia’s son,_ fully human, and it was like having her stare at him from beyond the grave. It was as unbearable as it was wonderful. This was not the Sephiroth from before, and Vincent was certain of it now. Before, Lucrecia’s features weren’t as pronounced, all you could see was insanity and hardness. Oh, Gaia. Oh, no.

                “I can’t.”

                Sephiroth leaned closer. “I’m sorry, repeat?”

                His voice was little more than a growl. “I can’t. I. Can’t. Do. This. Again.”

                Pre-Nibelheim Sephiroth would not have cared. Post-Nibeheim Sephiroth would not have noticed. But this Sephiroth, this Sephiroth that existed some other echo of time, the Sephiroth that looked at him with unbearable submission, the Sephiroth that was human – cared, in a clumsy, foreign way, about Vincent’s distress, and he reached one bare hand towards Vincent. “Don’t.”

                “What?”

                “Don’t force yourself. You have nothing to do with this. You owe me nothing.” He stared into Vincent’s red eyes. So many couldn’t keep eye contact with Vincent, finding him understandably unnerving. Cloud had been able to do it, of course, but after they slept together, Vincent couldn’t bear to keep eye contact with him. But Sephiroth – well, he supposed Sephiroth had seen many more horrible things than an immortal with red eyes. Vincent felt himself feeling sorry for the man in spite of himself.

                “I’ve atoned for years,” he explained. “And it seems I still have more to do. My sins…are so great.”

                The Silver General looked surprised, and dropped his hand. “How can you say that – to me? Your sins are _nothing._ I’m the one who – ”

                “I can’t,” Vincent shook his head. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

                Sephiroth bowed his head again. “Very well.”

                Chaos ached in his chest. But was that Chaos? Chaos didn’t normally urge him to touch another person under the chin, look him in the eyes, tell him to stand up straight, tell him to be strong, because death, well, sometimes death could be the sweetest embrace, and only those who would never feel that dark paradise could know…

                He could not kill Lucrecia Crescent’s son. He could not fail another person.

                An inhuman sound came from Vincent. A groan. A soft moan, maybe, as he came to terms with that last realization. “I’m not going to kill you,” he said. Softly. So softly, that Sephiroth would have thought he imagined it, but he was too close to Vincent to imagine speech. He was so close, in fact, that when he met Vincent’s eyes once again, it was almost enough to trigger Vincent’s Chaos instincts to push away this man that every particle of his beasts screamed at him was _danger! Danger! Do not engage! Kill!_

                Vincent turned away abruptly. “I won’t kill you, Sephiroth,” he repeated.

                “I don’t…understand.” That same confusion as in the Lifestream, but this was even worse because he was in front of a _man,_ a potential _threat,_ possibly a rival? How could he have been brought back so weak, he cursed. Would it have been better to just remain dead, but be feared and respected, instead of to live and be pitied? Sephiroth was not good at recognizing facial expressions – he was raised around scientists and surgeons – but he realized, with a rush of humiliation, that the sick look on Vincent’s face must have been _pity,_ and that’s why Vincent had suddenly changed his mind. Sephiroth had revealed too much, and now the older man looked at him with _pity._

                Did Vincent know what he had accomplished? He was SOLDIER First Class, not only First Class but the _best_ of First Class, not only the _best_ but the General. And Vincent pitied him. Sephiroth’s anger flared hot at the humiliation of being reduced to pity and submission.

                “Enough,” Sephiroth snapped. “Kill me, and let us be done with it. This was a mistake.”

                “Kill yourself, if you want to die so badly,” Vincent growled. “I won’t kill Lucrecia’s son.”

                _Lucrecia._ “Do you pity me?” Sephiroth demanded. “Is that why you changed your mind – out of some misguided attempt at sympathy? Because I can assure you – ”

                “What?” Vincent exclaimed angrily. “You bring Aerith here to _beg_ for your pathetic life, and then you want me to kill you? Be a man!”

                “I brought the girl _nowhere!_ She brought _me!”_ Sephiroth said, his voice as emotional as he had heard it in many years.

                “ _The girl has a name, and she had a life too!”_ Vincent shouted, his hand caressing the Death Penalty as he felt his chest burn as Chaos screamed…

                “I recognize you!” Sephiroth shot back triumphantly, his own anger mounting, and he stepped closer to Vincent. “You cared little more for her life than you do for your own. I recognize it now – I recognize you! _You_ didn’t care about her either, until she died and you felt guilty! You don’t care about people until it’s too late –!”

                _Crack!_ The butt of the Death Penalty flashed out and struck the tall man across the face, the impact landing squarely along his delicate jaw.

                Both men were dangerously quiet, and the tension in the room was thick. Slowly, Sephiroth drew up a hand and touched his jaw, which was bleeding where the weapon had hit him. He looked at his long fingers, covered in blood.

                “Blood,” he said softly, and he spat a white tooth – a molar, from the looks of it – into those red-stained fingers. The blood flowed in his mouth, and the taste of metal and salt brought him back to another lifetime, each blow he had taken in those god damned labs, every time he was too weak or too confused or just plain failed. The taste of blood was something he had never thought he would forget, and now, as a man who had done unspeakable things, the metallic taste was just as horrifying as it had been when he was child. He longed to spit it out, but forced himself to swallow it down, just as he had swallowed for years until he was strong enough to finally refuse orders, to inspire fear, to swear he would never be forced to choke on his own blood again…

                Sephiroth’s hand holding the tooth shook ever so slightly. Vincent couldn’t speak. He was unable to believe he had just struck an unarmed man, and it must have hurt because Vincent was almost as strong as any SOLDIER, and he was certain if Sephiroth had not been enhanced he would have broken his jaw…

                “I’m – I think I had forgotten…what it was to bleed. I thought I was immortal, for a time…” Sephiroth shook his head, his long silver hair flowing. “I’m sorry.” He summoned all his strength to modulate his tone. “I have no idea why I said those things. I certainly have no idea if it’s true.”

                “It’s true,” Vincent quietly said.

                “I’m sure it’s not. It was inexcusable of me.”

                Silence, as the blood slowly dripped down Sephiroth’s perfect face.

                “It’s called frustration,” Vincent said, finally. “It seems that you haven’t felt real emotion in quite a while.”

                Sephiroth laughed. It was not a pleasant sound, hollow and grating. “Emotion…has never been my problem. Not in many, many years. Perhaps never.” The blood was trickling down Sephiroth’s jaw now, but he looked unbothered.

                “I shouldn’t have hit you,” Vincent admitted.

                “I have had much worse.”

                Since it was so clearly true, the frank admission made Vincent feel worse. Looking at Sephiroth’s face – Lucrecia’s face – with the swelling already showing, the blood dripping down it and a tooth in his hand shamed him.

                Slowly, so slowly, Vincent reached out. Sephiroth closed his bright eyes, and with some effort, controlled himself. He would not react. Whatever Vincent did, he _would not_ react.

                Vincent’s gloved hand lightly touched Sephiroth’s bruised jaw, and he gently wiped the blood away. It was the second time someone had touched him in kindness in such a short period, and Sephiroth was surprised to feel an electrifying shock where his hand touched him. He certainly had felt nothing like that from the girl, no, from _Aerith,_ she had a name…

                Sephiroth exhaled slowly, opening his eyes to see a dark, unknowable look come into Vincent’s wine red eyes.

                “Fuck,” Vincent hissed, still touching his face. “I’ll tell you what you need to know. I’ll tell you everything. But you have to tell me, too. There are…things…that I want to know too.”

                “Agreed,” Sephiroth said hoarsely, unsure why his throat felt so dry.

                But Vincent took a step back, dropped his hand. For a moment all Sephiroth could feel was relief, but then the absence of it felt cold on his face, almost heavy. He said nothing. That was usually the best route, the safest route, say nothing and wait until the situation reveals itself.

                “Let’s take a break first,” Vincent said, after clearing his throat.

                “A break?”

                Vincent smiled humorlessly. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what a break means.”

                “Of course I do,” Sephiroth snapped. “I just don’t know from what activity you mean to take a break. A break from talking? And what will we do?”

                Vincent shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but I need a drink.” 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, naughty children, because this is a long and pornographic chapter!

It turned out, not only did Sephiroth not think he needed a drink, he had never had any. Alcohol, of course, being banned for active duty SOLDIERS  - and once Sephiroth had started with SOLDIER, he never had any desire to dull any of his senses for any reason. That was irresponsible, not to mention potentially deadly.

                Vincent, however, happened to have a quite tidy habit, and a bottle of absinthe tucked away amongst his admittedly few belongings. Within seconds, he had instructed Sephiroth to remain in the bathroom (too conspicuous, especially with that flowing silver hair) and called down to the front desk for a couple of glasses.

                Sephiroth found it somewhat degrading to be hiding in the bathroom while Vincent answered the door, but he did take the opportunity to spit out the last of the blood into the sink and throw away the sharp, bloody tooth he had been clutching for whatever reason. Vile.

                He could hear Vincent cross the room, although the man was remarkably light on his feet, and answer the door.

                “Two glasses?” he heard another voice, male, but higher pitched than Vincent’s, ask. Vincent’s voice was deep, and serious. This voice was more tenor, and certainly sounded happier.

                “Thank you,” Vincent said.

                “Are you…expecting company?” the voice asked.

                Vincent paused. Sephiroth figured he was gauging how much the man knew – had he heard their argument? “Perhaps,” he responded, the vague answer being the best kind when trying to dismiss someone.

                Sephiroth expected to hear the door close and Vincent cross the floor again, but instead there was silence.

                “You look sad,” said the new voice.

                At this, Sephiroth raised his eyebrows. Of all the bizarre things to say during a business transaction. In fact, he couldn’t imagine a situation in which he would _ever_ say that to another. He remembered how he used to rely on Angeal to help him decipher facial expression – even though both of them pretended they had no idea that he needed help from Angeal in any way. Emotion just escaped him, in a way – he knew that smiling meant happiness, of course, but he found distinguishing a fake smile from a real one to be difficult, and not worth the effort. Angeal would always tell him when someone’s expression or tone of voice belied their words, although he would frame it like he was just making idle talk with Sephiroth, instead of telling him because he needed the cue.

                Apparently Vincent found it an absurd statement as well, because he was silent for quite a while before simply repeating himself: “Perhaps.”

                “Do you…want some company?”

                “No. No thank you,” Vincent said, quickly but politely.

                “It’s okay,” the voice said. “Listen, I could give you my PHS number, maybe sometime later, if you’re still in town…?”

                _Why on earth?_ Sephiroth was listening hard, trying to pick up on some kind of hint from Vincent. Was he missing something?

                A soft chuckle from Vincent. The sound wasn’t hollow, in fact, Sephiroth found it sort of pleasing. “I’ll be moving on soon. But thank you. Have a good night.”

                “You too, sir,” he said. “Cheer up.”

                Vincent was surprised. What about his red mantle and cloak, not to mention his red eyes, made him seem approachable? He was amazed the younger man who had brought the glasses up hadn’t just thrown them at him and slammed the door. Vincent had long gotten used to the fact that he was scary, and very, very few people would want to be in his presence longer than necessary. Who could blame them? He looked like a monster.

                And that wasn’t even counting the scars.

                He took the glasses and the bottle and walked over to the small table on the other side of the bed, still thinking about the encounter. “Clear,” he said softly, only to find Sephiroth already closing the bathroom door behind him and moving over to the table himself.

                “I know. I have very acute hearing.”

                For no reason at all, Vincent found the thought slightly embarrassing. Had he heard the man trying to pick him up? Did Sephiroth know he preferred men to women – with a few exceptions, of course?

                Well, of course he knew. Aerith had said so, in response to his _own_ question, Vincent reminded himself. He wondered what Sephiroth thought of that – some men, particularly strong men like Sephiroth, found the idea to be unpleasant, or worse, weak. _Had_ Sephiroth reacted when Aerith had mentioned it?

                For Gaia’s sake, who cared what Sephiroth thought? The line of thought was so absurd that Vincent shook his head in disgust at himself, which tousled his already slightly wild black hair.

                “Sit down,” Vincent invited, setting the glasses on the wooden table – it was so small, it was almost the same size as the nightstand– and producing a bottle of pale green liquid.

                Sephiroth sat down across from Vincent and inspected the unlabeled bottle with mild interest. “What is this?”

                “Absinthe. It’s strong – it takes a lot to give me a buzz, but this usually does the trick.” Vincent poured a couple fingers into each glass. “Normally it’s diluted with water, but I don’t add any. You can, if you want, though,” he added.

                Sephiroth picked up the glass and inhaled the fumes experimentally. “Not necessary. SOLDIERs can’t get drunk easily. Our enhancements are made to keep us in peak condition at all times – any psychoactive substance is broken down extremely quickly in order to minimize the effect.”

                “I understand a high tolerance, but you don’t feel anything at all from it?”

                Now Sephiroth hesitated. “I’m unsure. Alcohol use as active SOLDIER is prohibited, but I’m unsure as to why the prohibition would exist if there was no effect.”

                “An experiment,” Vincent suggested. “Give it a try. But go easy.”

                Sephiroth frowned. “If there is any effect, I’m certain I can handle it,” he said coldly.

                Vincent raised his glass. “Relax.”

                They both took a sip – Sephiroth’s slightly larger than Vincent’s, just to prove himself – and Sephiroth was barely able to keep his face impassive. Disgusting. But Vincent had no visible reaction, simply swallowed and looked at the glass as if contemplating another sip.

                They finished their glasses in silence, fairly quickly, and without a word Vincent poured them each another few fingers of the pale beverage. One glass in, and the tight knot that was bound up in chest began to loosen, just a little bit, but it was a start.

                Vincent watched Sephiroth take a drink of his second glass, his pale skin reddening ever so slightly. His facial structure was so symmetrical, so perfect – he was _pretty,_ honestly, maybe even prettier than Lucrecia. Lucrecia was beautiful, to be sure, but her bone structure was even more captivating on an obviously powerful man. Flawless – except for the swollen, bruised place where Vincent had struck him.

                The table was so small that it was nothing for Vincent to put his gloved hand on Sephiroth’s – the man startled, but immediately looked him in the eye.

                “I’m sorry about your jaw,” Vincent said seriously, rubbing his thumb along Sephiroth’s wrist before withdrawing it.

                “It’s nothing. Believe me,” he said, waving it away.

“That makes it worse, not better. I can’t believe I did that.”

                “I know the feeling,” Sephiroth said. His head felt light, and it was almost…hard to focus? It made it easier for him to continue. “I…ever since I awoke in the Lifestream with – with Aerith, I have thought of nothing else but the things I did. I don’t remember…I don’t remember _why.._ ”

                He was stammering slightly – nothing for someone else, but it was shocking to see the always cold, always composed man searching for words, a note of anguish in his voice. He finished the second glass and Vincent immediately refilled it.

                “I don’t understand why,” Sephiroth admitted. “It is so much to absorb, and I can’t understand how I could have become such a monstrous being. I remember – I remember flashes, bits and – bits and pieces…but nothing clear…nothing concrete…since – since Nibelheim. Before Nibelheim, I can remember that, but I certainly never _felt_ this way. I-I don’t know if I felt at all…” He took a shaky breath, and Vincent ached, because it was so clear that that was exactly what was happening. The calm, rigid Silver General had _changed_ during his time in the Lifestream, and all the emotions that he had so successfully repressed – naturally, as a child raised to be a weapon, not to be a human – were coming to the surface.

                “You didn’t have normal emotions before, not if you were raised by Hojo,” Vincent said flatly. “Hojo was insane. He thought everything outside of raw science and experimentation – things like emotions, love, connections with others – to be foolish indulgences.”

                “So did I, once.” Sephiroth said. “I know I felt that way…and now I feel…differently, I think.”

                “I imagine it’s disconcerting,” Vincent said, sipping on his third glass.

                Sephiroth grimaced. “Disconcerting is an understatement.”

                There was silence for a moment, and then Sephiroth spoke up again. “How do you know Hojo? You speak of him as thought you know him well.”

                Vincent slammed his glass down on the table. “That fucking maniac. Let’s just say, I became one of his little experiments once, too.”

                Sephiroth couldn’t help himself – he reacted with surprise. “What? He – experimented on you?”

                Vincent looked away. Then he reached up and undid the buttons on his mantle, pulling it off his thick, dark hair and removing his cloak and hanging it on the back of his chair. His hands went to the buttons of his shirt, and as they steadily began to unbutton them, Sephiroth couldn’t look away. The contrast of the black hair against his pale skin, the smoothness of his throat…

                And then he saw the ragged, red scar that marred Vincent’s skin, starting right underneath each one of his clavicles and joining in the middle, it was impossible, but it was clearly…an autopsy scar?

                “He didn’t just experiment on me,” Vincent said, beginning to button back up. “He _killed_ me.”

                Sephiroth was gazing at Vincent with open horror now, feeling so disconcerted by the absinthe he was finding it hard to master himself. “How could he…”

                Vincent left the last button of his shirt undone. “Lucrecia saved me. If you can call this being saved. She implanted Chaos into me, to save my life. Chaos is a…well, a weapon, for lack of a better word. A demonic creature. He lives in me, and when I let him out, I take his form. I can control when he comes out because of the Protomateria she also implanted, but I can’t control once he’s out…but since Chaos is immortal, his host cannot die either.”

                “You can’t die,” Sephiroth said in awe. “You’re – immortal?”

                Vincent nodded. “I’ve never been where you were – the Lifestream, where my soul can rest. I’ve never stood were you were. And I never will.”

                Before, Sephiroth might have wanted Chaos for himself. Immortality. _I will be reborn as God of the new world_ echoed in his head, words he didn’t remember but knew he had spoken. But he recognized, now, that the only possible response to Vincent’s situation…was sympathy.

                Sympathy, Sephiroth had never really experienced. Was it sympathy that made his chest ache? Was it sympathy that put him at a loss for words – not just that he had nothing that he wished to say, as frequently happened, this time he desperately wanted to say something, but he could not find the words. He remembered Vincent touching his hand when he had apologized about his jaw – was that the correct response?

                Hesitantly, he reached his hand out for Vincent’s, to pat it, perhaps. That should work. He placed his hand on Vincent’s and held it there for a moment, but was taken off guard when Vincent flipped his hand over so he was holding Sephiroth’s as well.

                His instinct was to tug it away, perhaps snap at him. But it felt…nice. His heart beat faster, even though there was no physical exertion of any type occurring. Could it be the absinthe?

                “I’m sorry, Vincent,” he said. “Lucrecia – she did that to you? My…my mother?”

                Vincent nodded, and did not let go of his hand yet. “She was desperate to help me. Your mother…I had tried to warn her about Hojo, but she thought he had good intentions. She didn’t see his evil until it was too late, and she was wracked with guilt after Hojo shot me. She would have done anything to save my life, to make it up to me. Lucrecia didn’t take people’s lives lightly.”

                Sephiroth lowered his eyes. “She would have died with shame if she knew what I had become. _Does_ she…I wonder if she knows…”

                “She never knew, Sephiroth,” he said firmly. “I saw her – recently, actually, she encased her consciousness into a Mako crystal. She had dreamed about you…she heard you did terrible things, and she asked me if they were true. I told her it wasn’t true, that it was a trick of Jenova. I told her you had died.”

                Sephiroth didn’t say anything, but his glowing eyes begged Vincent to continue. Vincent wanted to fall silent, but the warmth of Sephiroth’s skin on his hand pushed him onward.

                “You said earlier that Hojo must have forced her into experimentation. The truth is, Lucrecia was a scientist too. She agreed to the experiments. She was interested in pushing the limits of science.”

                “My mother? She _agreed_ to Jenova?” he asked, clearly distressed.

                “Please remember this was before anybody knew what Jenova was. They believed Jenova was an Ancient, just like you did. They thought she had great wisdom, and that a child born with her cells would be special, strong. A scientific miracle. I warned her, but…” he took a deep breath. “I warned her, but I did nothing. All I did was watch. I watched as they experimented on her. I watched her pregnancy, and she was in terrible pain. I watched the experiment, and I watched as Lucrecia realized Hojo’s evil, and that he had no ethics, no humanity. And I watched when you were born, and Lucrecia didn’t get to hold you. Not even one time.”

                The two men did not break their connection.

                “That was when I went into my coffin. That was when I knew I had to atone for all of my failures. I could have done more. And I did nothing.”

                “Vincent…”

                 “It’s true. What you…what you said before is true. I cared about Lucrecia, but I didn’t make the effort before she died. It was _after_ she died that I devoted myself to atonement. I didn’t care about Aerith. I liked her. Everyone liked Aerith. But I never made any effort towards her. I didn’t care until after she was dead, because after someone dies, it’s easy to care.” Vincent’s pale skin was flushed from intoxication. “And I frequently took the easy way.”

                “You’re helping me,” Sephiroth said, leaning forward slightly so his silver hair spilled over his shoulders. “That is undeniably difficult, and you could have killed me. No one would have blamed you. In fact, you would probably be a hero.” He winced, remembering Genesis’ obsession with heroics.

                “I’m no hero,” Vincent said darkly.

                “Nobody else would have done this,” Sephiroth said quietly. “You said so yourself.”

                Unable to think of a response, Vincent fell silent again, and he released Sephiroth’s hand. He held it there for a moment, and then slowly moved it back to his side of the tiny table.

 As they worked their way through the bottle, their words came more quickly, the answers more honest.  Sephiroth didn’t discuss it at length, but he did tell Vincent more about the labs that he was raised in, the way Hojo treated him, the way _everyone_ treated him. The more he revealed, the more Vincent wanted to hold his hand again, but he kept his distance, careful not to say anything that would cut Sephiroth off, bring him back to his senses. It was clear that he had never spoken about this before, so Vincent tried not to react in any way – especially not pity. But this was _it_ for Vincent. Having been a small, helpless child at the mercy of cruel adults before once too, he knew that after hearing this story, he would never be able to think of Sephiroth as pure evil again.

                Their conversation continued. Eventually, Sephiroth – looking thoroughly tipsy now, his cheeks tinted and his eyes glassy – asked Vincent about the person who had brought the glasses. “Why, uh, why did he ask if you wanted company?”

                Vincent shrugged and took another sip. “Guess I looked lonely.”

                “Do you know him?”

                “Don’t think so.”

                “So why…why would you want his company?” Sephiroth asked.

                Vincent was surprised. “I doubt he was thinking along the lines of stimulating intellectual conversation,” he said, deceptively casual.

                Sephiroth furrowed his brow, looking half intrigued, half confused.

                Vincent forced himself to keep any tone of amusement out of his voice, knowing that if he sounded mocking even in the slightest, Sephiroth would immediately shut down. “I’m fairly certain he was looking for casual sex, Sephiroth.”

                “With you?” he asked, seemingly startled.

                Now Vincent did smile. “Is that so impossible?”

                “Of course not,” Sephiroth said quickly. “I just…I’m just surprised that anyone would just approach a stranger for sex. What if you said no?”

                “Well, I did say no. His world didn’t end.”

                Sephiroth was unable to hide his curiosity. “Did you want to say yes?”

                “These aren’t the kind of questions I expected when Aerith brought you back,” Vincent admonished him. “It wouldn’t have mattered, anyway. I was otherwise engaged.”

                Sephiroth frowned.

                “With you. What would I have done with you, hidden you in the bathroom while we had a quick fuck?”

                “So you _did_ want to say yes.”

                Vincent actually smiled. A real smile, showing white teeth underneath his thin but perfectly formed lips. “No,” he laughed. “I had no interest in the man. Not only did I not know him, I tire very quickly of normal people. Is there something you’re getting at?” His tone was gentle; amused, but not mocking.

                The faint alcoholic flush on Sephiroth’s skin turned into a bright blush, setting off his silver hair and bright green eyes magnificently. Vincent rather liked the way it looked, all hot skin and pale hair and embarrassed eyes.

                “Come on, Silver General, tell me what you’re thinking.” For some reason, Vincent was extremely interested in hearing what was going on inside his head. Chaos was roaring, pushing him – but that wasn’t Chaos at all, Vincent realized, in fact, he had never been further from Chaos overcoming him –  it was desire, pure lust radiating from him as he stared across the tiny table at Sephiroth. The realization felt like a bolt of lightning.

                Sephiroth’s chest felt hot at the gentle teasing. He couldn’t identify the feeling. It wasn’t a bad feeling, not the cold fury or frustration he had felt so frequently…but he wasn’t sure what it was.

                Vincent reached across the wooden table again. This time, Sephiroth didn’t need to brace himself, he figured he was going to touch him again, and he was right – Vincent gently drew his gloved thumb across Sephiroth’s face, dragging slightly on his swollen lower lip and jaw. The sensation was electrifying. He had no idea what to make of it, but this time he leaned in, across the table, turning his face slightly so that Vincent’s hand could continue to make contact with him. Vincent stroked the side of his face slowly.

                “Come on,” he whispered, his voice throaty. No, this wasn’t Chaos. This was an entirely different beast, and he felt his cock twitch.

                Sephiroth felt a surge of pleasure rush through his body, and his mouth was dry. “I…”

                Vincent continued to caress his face, enjoying the effect it was having on the regal man. He had no idea what was happening, why he was doing this, but it was too enjoyable to just _stop,_ not when Sephiroth was staring at him like he was an ocean he was dying to drown in.

                Sephiroth couldn’t look away from Vincent’s wine-red eyes, that dark look in them again. His black hair was wild, framing his angular face, and the picture was so lovely, the column of his throat so smooth and his face so pale that almost before he even knew what he was doing, Sephiroth leaned across the table and touched his mouth to Vincent’s.

                Effortlessly, Vincent’s hand slipped behind Sephiroth’s head to rest in his silver hair as he returned the kiss. Sephiroth was clueless as to what he was doing, but Vincent certainly knew, and when he flicked his tongue across the other man’s closed lips, he was pleased to hear a low sound in the back of Sephiroth’s throat.

                Gaia, but it was compelling.

                Sephiroth ducked his head, forcing Vincent to let go of his hair and allow him to escape the kiss. He was breathing heavy, and he had an _erection,_ of all the nonsensical things, and the entire situation was ridiculous, just ridiculous, why had he done such a foolish thing…before he knew it, he was standing up.

                “Hey,” Vincent said, clearing his throat. “C’mon. Sephiroth. It’s okay.”

                “Ridiculous,” the man snapped. “Ignore that.”

                Vincent shrugged. “If you really want me to, I will.”

                “Thank you—”

                “But I don’t think you really want me to.”

                Sephiroth stopped pacing and looked over at Vincent, who was standing now too. “You what?”

                “I don’t think you really want me to forget it. I think this was your first kiss with a man and you’re panicking,” Vincent said calmly, in his deep, strangely soothing voice.

                “I _do not_ panic,” Sephiroth said coldly, in the most commanding voice he could, but even he could hear the note of fear in his voice. Damn. _Damn_.

                “You want me to back off?” Vincent said, opening his hands as if to show they were empty. “Leave you alone? Then tell me.”

                Sephiroth couldn’t say anything, and Vincent came up to him. “Or do you want to try again? Just _tell_ me, for Gaia’s sake.”

                Sephiroth closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Vincent was standing right in front of him. “I have never…done that…before.”

                “Yeah, I figured it was your first…” he stopped. “First kiss at all? Ever?”

                Sephiroth nodded.

                “Wait…so you’ve never had sex?”

                This time Sephiroth didn’t even nod, just looked up at the ceiling petulantly. “I have never had occasion to.”

                Vincent couldn’t help it. “You were the head of SOLDIER,” he said. “Are you telling me that you never noticed people throwing themselves at you?”

                “People certainly never _threw themselves_ at me,” he retorted. “It was a serious position, not a celebrity status. And I never would have had the desire to leave my work. That kind of nonsense was better left to other people, ones like Zack Fair.”

                “And things have changed now, have they?” Vincent asked.

                Again Sephiroth was silent.

                Neither of them said anything for several minutes, and Vincent thought idly that if Sephiroth thought he had more patience than Vincent, this would be a very long night. Vincent could out-wait anyone he had ever met.

                “Yes,” Sephiroth finally said, in a low tone. “They have.”

                Almost before the word had left his mouth, Vincent was removing his glove from his good hand so he could put his bare hand against Sephiroth’s, and the dizzyingly foreign sensation of skin against skin more intoxicating for the taller man than any amount of alcohol could ever be.

                He leaned in and pressed his mouth against Vincent’s again, and Vincent kissed him back, fisting his hands into Sephiroth’s silver hair. Slowly, slowly, he reminded himself, even if it had been so long since he had been with someone with whom he did not have to pretend…

                It was torture, but he allowed Sephiroth to lead the kiss, and when he parted his lips slightly, Sephiroth quickly ran his tongue against Vincent’s mouth, mimicking Vincent’s flicking motion from earlier. Vincent immediately reacted with enthusiasm, pressing himself against Sephiroth, and he was gratified to feel the other man’s hardness pressing against him.

                They kissed for several minutes, and as it grew hungry, Vincent reached up and unbuttoned the first of the buttons on Sephiroth’s shirt. Sephiroth’s breathing came quickly.

                “Yes,” Sephiroth whispered into Vincent’s mouth.

                Vincent dragged his hand down the length of Sephiroth’s long, lean torso, coming to rest on the front of his pants, his hand pressing lightly against Sephiroth’s hard cock.

                Sephiroth sighed with pleasure as Vincent gently stroked his cock through the layer of fabric, it was so delicious – the desire was so foreign, but it was there, and it pushed him forward, imagining unknowable pleasures, picturing the black haired man pressing into him on the bed, ready for something, he wasn’t sure what, but he was desperate to find out…

                Suddenly, Vincent stopped, looking self conscious.  Sephiroth immediately looked at him, concerned. “What? What’s wrong?”

                Vincent looked away. “It’s nothing…it’s just, this body is scarred. The autopsy scar is deep, and it will never heal. It’s ugly.”

                Sephiroth nodded thoughtfully. “Is that all?”

                He shook his head. “My…my hand.” He began to remove the gauntlet to reveal a hand that was scarred, almost like it had been engulfed in flames at one point. “My hand _works_ fine, but I wear this gauntlet…the skin is very rough. It doesn’t, uh, it doesn’t feel really nice. I’m just…warning you.”

                Sephiroth wasn’t good at matching the correct emotional response to the situation, so he took Vincent’s bad hand and held it. “I tire of normal people very quickly, as well,” he said, echoing Vincent’s sentiment from earlier.

                Vincent gave him a half smile and traced Sephiroth’s wrist with the thumb of his scarred hand. Sephiroth tried to smile encouragingly. “It does not feel as rough as you think it does,” he remarked. “I think it’s just because the rest of your skin is so lovely—” he clamped down on those words and tried not to blush.

                Vincent tugged Sephiroth closer to him and leaned in for another kiss – Sephiroth was so tall, he actually had to lean up slightly, which was a welcome change – and as Sephiroth leaned in as well, Vincent bit down on his lip.

                Sephiroth jumped at the unexpected sensation. The brief flash of pain made for a delicious contrast with the pleasurable feeling of skin against skin, and it inflamed his desire. Sephiroth was unbuttoning his own shirt before he quite knew what he was doing, and as they kissed hungrily, Vincent was tearing off his own shirt and leading Sephiroth over to the bed.

                Sephiroth’s heart was racing. He knew what was coming, he could picture it, he longed for it, but at the same time he could not imagine how it would possibly feel, how this would possibly work, he had no idea what to do…no experience, not even a fantasy. All he had was the animal instinct that insisted he continue, that begged him to undress Vincent, to push him down, to _fuck_ him, to _be_ fucked by him…and oh, Gaia, this was all so new…

                Vincent’s hands were fumbling with the top of Sephiroth’s pants, unbuttoning them and slowly reaching his good hand inside, closing his hand around the shaft of Sephiroth’s cock, which was heavy and hard.

                This time, Sephiroth bit down on his own lip.

                Vincent moved his hand slowly, stroking all the way from the base of his erection to the very tip, as Sephiroth’s breathing grew ragged.

                “You okay?” he murmured.

                Sephiroth breathed, “Yes.”

                Vincent gently pressed Sephiroth down so he was seated on the edge of the bed, and then, in a surprisingly natural motion, as if he had known what to do his whole life, Sephiroth reached one strong hand up and pushed down on Vincent’s head, not roughly, but with a certain, steady pressure, until Vincent was forced into a kneeling position on the floor before Sephiroth, drawing his cock out with his hand.

                Sephiroth’s hands were knotted in Vincent’s hair – it was so thick and soft, he couldn’t refrain from giving it an experimental tug – and as Vincent drew his cock into his mouth, he gripped his hair in earnest.

                Vincent drew him in, slowly taking the entire length of his dick into his mouth and running his tongue along the edge of it. He had a burning desire to please him, to see Sephiroth’s face glow with orgasm, and he used every trick he had learned since he was a teenager to tease and caress. His mouth moved in synch with his hands, his scarred one massaging the inside of his legs, good one gently stroking Sephiroth’s balls.

                The feeling was indescribable. The wetness of Vincent’s mouth, the heat, the desire all left Sephiroth light-headed with lust. Seeing Vincent’s dark shoulder length hair spilling over his legs, seeing Vincent kneel in front of him to suck his dick, the sensation of moist heat and gentle suction on the most sensitive part of his body was almost enough to make him lose it, but he mastered himself and groaned.

                Before long, Sephiroth’s breathing hitched, and he was choking out, “Wait, wait, wait, stop it, stop it, stop—”

                But Vincent didn’t stop, _couldn’t_ stop, instead drew him deeper and sucked harder, applied gentle, inexorable pressure to his balls, felt the mighty General’s cock twitch and explode with salty warmth inside his mouth, and Vincent ran his tongue around the base of it, swallowing deeply, and then falling back on his heels.

                “Goddamn it,” Sephiroth swore, coldly furious. “God _damn_ you – how dare you—”

                But Vincent just shrugged, unrepentant. “You’re SOLDIER,” he said. “Healing factor kicks in, you’ll be ready to go again within minutes.”

                Sephiroth glared. “And you know this, do you?”

                Uncharacteristically, Vincent winked. The sight made Sephiroth snort despite his rage – who _was_ this man? The playful teasing, the eager touches – it was unlike anything Sephiroth had ever imagined, but nothing in the world could feel more natural.

                Vincent stood, slightly unsteadily, and stripped down unceremoniously. Sephiroth gazed at the nude man before him – the scars were obvious, and ugly. The Y-incision in particular stood out, marring his torso, but Sephiroth found Vincent’s body as a whole oddly…compelling. It was almost beautiful. He opened his mouth to say so, but then slammed it shut before the words could escape. God damn it, what was he doing?

                The dark haired man took hold of his own erection, which had fallen a little during the exchange and stroked it a few times, and at the sight, Sephiroth felt a jolt of lust go through him – and to his surprise, his own cock began to stiffen again with desire.

                Vincent nodded, as if to say, _See, I know what I’m talking about_ , and joined Sephiroth on the bed, pulling the slender man’s pants off completely. Sephiroth had never felt so much skin to skin contact in his life, and it was overwhelming, powerful. Fuck. Oh, fuck…

                They kissed for several minutes, Vincent straddled on top of Sephiroth, leaning forward so they were chest to chest, their bodies pressed together. If anyone had said Sephiroth would enjoy this, he would certainly have thought them insane, but the taste of himself inside the other man’s mouth was a powerful aphrodisiac and Sephiroth reacted with hunger.

                Vincent had his scarred hand tangled in Sephiroth’s waist length hair, and the other one traced the musculature of his body until he reached down and took Sephiroth’s hardness inside his hand and began to gently stroke him.

                “Hey, Sephiroth,” he whispered, his voice deep, husky with lust. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

                The words sent a jolt down to the very bottom of Sephiroth’s feet, and although he wouldn’t have thought he was capable so soon, his cock leaked pre-come onto Vincent’s steady fingers.

                “Gods…” he groaned.

                “Yeah?” Vincent asked, not whispering any more, but still quiet and hoarse. “Want me to fuck you? Want it inside you, sir?”

                The gasp this time was more pronounced, almost strangled sounding, and Vincent pounced immediately. “Oh, you like to be called sir? It must be a SOLDIER thing. Oh, I fully intend to blow your mind.”

                Torn between his desire to be fucked by Vincent and his primal instinct to force Vincent into submission, he was grateful when Vincent decided to stop teasing him and take over. He let go of his cock and propped himself up on one arm, rummaging around in the nightstand beside the bed with the other. As Vincent searched, Sephiroth closed his eyes and reached down, picking up where Vincent had left off, stroking them together.

                At the first exploratory touch of Sephiroth’s delicate fingers, Vincent hummed appreciatively. “Mm, that’s good.” He pulled a small, unopened package of lube and a condom from the nightstand.

                “Do you frequently travel with alcohol, lubricant, and condoms?” Sephiroth asked, slightly sarcastically.

                Vincent winked. “Well, I’m immortal and you’re SOLDIER, so I guess we really don’t need the condom, but otherwise…”

                “Stop winking,” Sephiroth commanded, slightly annoyed that Vincent seemed so amused with him all of a sudden, but also enjoying the playful teasing for some reason.

                Vincent winked again. “Yes, sir.”

                For someone as enhanced as Sephiroth, it was nothing at all for him to put one hand underneath Vincent’s chest and push, holding him up slightly with no effort. “Get serious, Vincent.” Vincent smiled, and Sephiroth realized with sudden surprise that he was teasing Vincent back.

                He put Vincent on the bed next to him and raised himself up on one elbow. “This is…so strange.”

                Vincent looked at him with mild concern. “We don’t have to do anything else, Sephiroth. It’s okay if you’re not into it. Not everybody is. We can just go to sleep. I don’t mind,” he said seriously.

                “No, no, that’s not it,” Sephiroth said quickly. “It’s just…odd. To be here, and then to be…joking around, I suppose.”

                “Well, if you can’t joke with the person you’re fucking, who can you joke with?”

                “I don’t think I had pictured myself joking with anyone,” he admitted. “Or you, for that matter.”

                “I do tend to be pretty serious,” Vincent agreed. “Not as rigid as you, but…serious.”

                Sephiroth frowned. “Rigid?”

                “Sephiroth. If you don’t unclench I am never going to be able to get inside you. You are the mostly tightly wound person I have ever met…and I’ve been alive for a while.”

                At the phrase _get inside you_ Sephiroth’s face flared with heat.

                “Come on, you have to relax. Do you want this? Are you ready?” Vincent asked, stroking Sephiroth’s cock again.

                Sephiroth seemed unwilling to say it, but his undeniable desire mounted. Vincent got a perverse pleasure out of making the man say what he wanted, since Sephiroth so clearly preferred not to verbally acknowledge it. “C’mon, tell me.”

                “Yes,” he said finally.

                “Yes…?” he prodded, tightening his hand around Sephiroth’s cock.

                “Yes, I’m ready for it.”

                At that, Vincent pulled himself up on his knees and opened the package of lubricant, rubbing his fingers together to warm them up. Sephiroth couldn’t look, so he closed his eyes. A thrill went through him, excitement, lust, and fear.

                “Relax…” Vincent breathed, bit by bit inserting one of his steady fingers.

                The sensation was – oh, god, it didn’t hurt, but it was _foreign,_ strange, his instinct was to immediately kick Vincent away from him but he was desperate for more, more…

                Slowly, tenderly, Vincent worked two more of his long fingers inside the other man, and as he brushed the perfect spot inside him, Sephiroth gasped.

                “Is that okay?”

                Sephiroth nodded. He could see Vincent concentrating on his body, on working his fingers deep inside him, finding _that_ spot, gently brushing it. Gaia, it felt good. It felt so good, so unnatural but so perfect at the same time. Vincent slowed his fingers and looked at Sephiroth with kindness. “Let’s take it slow.”

                “You do not need to be gentle with me,” Sephiroth reminded him, but his heart wasn’t in it, he couldn’t sum up the commanding, disdainful tone he was used to, not lying on the bed naked with Vincent Valentine’s fingers inside him.

                He came up behind Sephiroth on the bed, holding him from behind. Sephiroth was grateful, absurdly grateful, because as much as he wanted this, _needed_ this, he didn’t want to look Vincent in the face as he was fucked by him. The submissiveness of the position – It would have been absurdly uncomfortable even as he longed for it, but how did Vincent know? Gaia, how did people ever do this for the first time? How did anyone stumble through something like this _without_ Vincent? If it hadn’t been for Vincent’s expertise and gentle teasing, this would have been so wrong, but Vincent knew exactly how to put him at ease…

                Vincent was caressing Sephiroth’s long hair again, and he pulled Sephiroth into him so that Sephiroth could feel Vincent’s thick cock pressing against his ass.

                Sephiroth’s breathing hitched as he felt Vincent’s lubricated cock pressing at him. Vincent pressed forward insistently, slowly, and Sephiroth was stretched by the thick head of Vincent’s cock. Vincent was going slowly, so carefully, pushing in millimeter by millimeter and then back out again, giving Sephiroth time to get used to the alien but certainly not unpleasant sensation.

                “Still okay?” Vincent checked, his deep voice thick.

                “Yes,” Sephiroth said breathlessly, and Vincent pushed deeper inside of Sephiroth, brushing against his prostate in an electrifying way.

                It was _good._ Oh, Gaia, there was a soreness with it, a stretching, full feeling, but the sensation brought Sephiroth’s cock to it’s full length. ”Yes,” he sighed, this time more in praise than permission. Vincent moved against him, until the entire length of his thick cock was buried in Sephiroth’s ass. Sephiroth could feel Vincent’s hips moving against him, could feel his hot breath against his neck, could hear every breath that he took in.

                As he got more comfortable, Sephiroth moved his hips back experimentally, pushing Vincent’s hips into his backside. When Vincent reacted with pleasure, Sephiroth did it again, encouraged, and they fell into a magnificent rhythm.

                “Fuck,” Vincent hissed, moving faster and faster against him. He was right against Sephiroth, his shoulder length black hair mixing with the river of pale silk that brushed against him.  It was perfect, so tight, and he didn’t have to worry – there was no need to pretend, no need to keep his shirt on to hide the grotesque scars, no need to hide who and what he was. Vincent could lose himself inside Sephiroth’s perfect body, the muscles perfectly formed and lean and hard. He could drown, and he felt himself going under, and it was magnificent.

                Oh _gods!_ Vincent thrusted harder, he knew he was close and part of him was desperate to pull out, to last longer, but Sephiroth was so tight, and the rhythm was so instinctive and perfect that Vincent couldn’t stop – within minutes, he felt his own pleasure surge, and as he was panting, pushing, he felt the familiar tightening at the base of his spine and right underneath his balls. He thrusted again, and with an almighty groan, he came with his cock buried deep in Sephiroth’s ass, crying out.

                He plunged once more and then withdrew slowly, his breathing ragged. “Gaia, that’s so…so good.” He lay on his back on the bed, a faint smile playing at his lips.

                Sephiroth was overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock so hard he could barely take it. He thought he should give Vincent a chance to catch his breath, the man was covered with a thin sheen of sweat. He should, but he couldn’t, not when he saw how Vincent’s black hair was wild and damp, his cheeks reddened with the afterglow of his orgasm, pleasure that _Sephiroth_ had caused…no, he was irresistible. Sephiroth was emboldened by everything that had happened, and without a moment of hesitation, he grabbed Vincent and flipped him over so he was facedown. Sephiroth grabbed the opened package of lubricant and stroked himself once, although he was so hard even one time sent a wave of pleasure through his body.

                Vincent started to move, like he was going to turn around and look at Sephiroth, but Sephiroth’s strong hand on the back of his neck prevented him. “This is going to be fun,” Vincent murmured as Sephiroth grabbed a fistful of thick hair and pulled it back.

                Sephiroth growled, a dark instinct that had lain dormant his entire life kicking in. He felt pinpricks on the back of his neck as he held Vincent down, intoxicated by the power of dominating over this man. He had never even imagined this situation before, would have never expected it, and yet he knew exactly what to do, as he slowly worked his lubricated cock inside of Vincent. Gentle, gentle, he reminded himself, as Vincent’s sharp intake of breath inflamed his libido.

                _Gently, gently…_ and he pictured Vincent kneeling before him, drawing out his orgasm amidst the sound of his protest and he pushed harder, until his considerable length was inside of him.  _To embarrass Sephiroth still has a penalty,_ he thought, and it was his last coherent thought as he partially withdrew and slammed his cock inside of him again, harder and harder, so much more aggressive than Vincent had been with him.

                Vincent was saying something, but Sephiroth’s heart was racing and all he could hear was the sound of his own breath and the faint buzzing in his ear as he yanked back on Vincent’s hair again. One hand holding himself up, the other hand knotted in Vincent’s hair, and Sephiroth’s hips moved in a siren song, ancient and instinctive, punishing and purifying.

                And oh, it hurt, Sephiroth had not taken nearly as much care as Vincent had to prepare him, and Vincent couldn’t have moved in protest even if he had wanted to, not with the full weight of the SOLDIER First slamming into him, but the pain was so delicious, sharp edged and fine and mixed with waves of pleasure as Sephiroth’s lengthy cock repeatedly brushed his prostate that Vincent felt like he could do this for the rest of eternity. The dominance that had come out was exciting, because no one he had ever met in his life had been able to dominate him, to meet him blow for blow. Vincent had known Sephiroth was capable of this, had known it the minute he had seen the fury in Sephiroth’s eyes after he had come in Vincent’s mouth, and he had hoped all his teasing and amusement would spark the General, push him to this inevitable conclusion, and here they were…

                Sephiroth felt the crest of his pleasure, but no, it was too soon, he had to _dominate,_ to _punish_ , and so he withdrew completely and flipped Vincent back around so he was lying on his back again. Vincent looked up in interest, and before he could say anything, Sephiroth had wrapped his powerful hands around Vincent’s neck and began to squeeze.

                Harder, harder, pressing with his thumbs, the river of silver hair flowing around them both. Sephiroth was glassy-eyed with lust, and Vincent struggled – “No – Sephiroth – no!”

                Sephiroth let off for a second and shook Vincent hard in punishment, and then resumed choking the dark haired man, who was now protesting in earnest, wildly trying to move, to warn Sephiroth because if this triggered his Chaos instincts, there would be hell to pay. “No – please – Chaos!”

                “Ha!” Sephiroth threw his head back, his voice ragged. “You think I can’t handle your little demons?”

                Another second, and then he finally released Vincent and drove his cock into him again, this time with Vincent face up so he could look him in the eye. Vincent’s dark red eyes were lusty, and as Sephiroth pounded into him, Vincent began to stroke his own shaft, the tip oozing with clear fluid. They picked right back up in that glorious rhythm, and now that Vincent had begged, now that Sephiroth had heard Vincent plead, _now_ he could finish, he could drive himself deep inside again, and again…

                “You think I can’t handle _you_?” Sephiroth growled, thrusting as hard as he could.

                Oh, Gaia, the dominant tone sent a shock wave through Vincent’s cock and he felt himself getting close – he could tell by the unsteady sound of Sephiroth’s breathing that the SOLDIER was ready, too. 

                Both men were quiet lovers, but they both cursed and groaned as the first wave of Sephiroth’s orgasm hit him and Vincent clenched his body tightly as his cock began to spurt, clutching each other and riding this second orgasm to completion.

                Sephiroth collapsed on the bed besides Vincent. They were silent for a moment, enjoying the sounds of breathing stabilizing and the scent of sweat and sex in the air.

                Sephiroth wasn’t sure what to say. Was that too far? It had felt so _right,_ but looking back, was it wrong? “I…I apologize if I hurt you.”

                Vincent looked over at him. “That,” he said seriously, “was great. I’m fine. You might want to use a Curaga, sometimes it can hurt after—” but Sephiroth had nothing, no materia, _nothing_ , so Vincent cut himself off and busied himself getting a washcloth to clean up after the passionate episode.

                “Are you all right?” Vincent asked, once they had cleaned up and were lying on the bed once again – not tangled in each other’s limbs, as they were before, but touching in a comfortable, companionable way. “First time and everything…I want to make sure.”

               Sephiroth cleared his throat. “Yes. I am. I just wonder…”

              “What?”

               Sephiroth hesitated, and then changed his mind. “You know what?” Sephiroth asked instead.

              “Mm, what?” Vincent murmured, spent.

              “You remind me of Angeal. Angeal Hewley? He…he was a friend of mine. He had a softness about him, too. Everyone was afraid of him when they first began SOLDIER. But then they realized that he was not…not nearly as terrible as he seemed.”     

              Vincent snorted.  “How very dare you, sir.” His voice was thick, tired. It had become dark during their encounter, and Vincent felt himself tiring. Sephiroth laughed – chuckled, really, but it was an appealing, deep sound, and it was as natural as breathing for Vincent to put his head on Sephiroth’s shoulder and shut his eyes as Sephiroth gently ran his fingers through his hair – hesitantly at first, as if he wasn’t sure this was okay, and then more naturally, stroking his thick hair.

              Vincent’s breathing grew heavy, and Sephiroth was tired, but he could not bear to sleep. He knew he would be gone soon, and if his time here was to be so short, how could he spend it sleeping when it could be spent drinking in the sensation of skin against skin – the feeling he had been missing, been secretly longing for, his entire life, he now realized?

Sephiroth was glad he did not know how to cry.


	5. Chapter 5

                He must have drifted off, because he woke in the darkness, his arms still wrapped around Vincent Valentine. For a moment he was confused, but then the memories kicked in and everything felt right.

                “I don’t know what to do,” Sephiroth said quietly. He wasn’t sure if Vincent was awake, but he had to say it, had to get it out there. “I’m just not sure…”

                “…Where to go from here?” Vincent asked, the deep, dark look gone from his eyes and replaced with sadness as he looked up at Sephiroth.

                “I know I have to leave,” Sephiroth said. “My…my time is up.”

                Vincent knew it was true, he had promised to kill Sephiroth himself. But oh, Gaia, that was before. That was before he had known the depths of Jenova’s power over Sephiroth, before he had seen the changes, before he had heard of Sephiroth’s life before SOLDIER, before…everything.

                This was the only man who had been able to possess him, and now where would they be? How could Vincent go back to Midgar and act like nothing was wrong? How could he let Sephiroth go, knowing that he would never see him again, not in this life or any other?

                It was almost enough to bring him back to his coffin. But he had sworn he was finished shutting himself off from the world, finished with atonement.

                Maybe he had spoken too soon.

                “I don’t know what to do either,” Vincent admitted. “I can’t kill you.”

                “I should be dead. It’s exactly as you said earlier – I killed many that did not have the option to come back. It would not be justice if I was alive. Please,” he said. “I have to atone in some small way.”

                “God damn it,” Vincent said, angry. “You think that’s atonement? I thought that was atonement for years and years, to cut myself off, to get as close to death as I possibly could. But you _dying_ will not do any good, just like me pretending to die didn’t help anybody either. If you want to atone, you have to stay here and fight. You have to do good. You can’t just go away, Sephiroth!”

                “Don’t you think I want to stay?” Sephiroth said plaintively, holding Vincent even as he pushed away from him. “I have never in my life felt anything close to how I felt tonight. Not even a glimmer. So much I thought I would never understand, never see. Vincent, I want to stay.”

                “Then stay,” Vincent said wildly. “I’ll handle it. I will explain it to everyone.”

                Sephiroth sighed. “I think I’ve had quite enough of other people explaining for me, making excuses, paving my way.”

                Vincent’s anger flared. “You can’t set aside your pride for one fucking moment, can you?”

                “No,” Sephiroth said simply.

                “Then fuck you.” Vincent was still trying to get away from him, and although Sephiroth could have easily contained him, he let him go. Vincent stalked across the dark room to the bathroom and slammed the door, and as Sephiroth acutely felt the absence of Vincent, he was not surprised to find that he was close to tears after all.

                No. No, this would not do. There had to be something. He could not have lived on the Planet for all these years, missed so many things, only to have just _one day_ where he was a real person, not the result of Hojo’s experiment. Sephiroth was stronger than anyone he had ever met. He was smarter, cleverer, and more resourceful. Sephiroth would fix this, would do anything, _anything,_ if he didn’t have to see that disappointed look in those crimson eyes that he was surprised to find he knew so well already.

                Vincent came out of the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. The room was dark, but both men were enhanced to the point that darkness was nothing for them. Vincent wasn’t sure why he was reacting this way. He knew Sephiroth would only be here briefly – just as he had prayed it would be at the beginning. But oh, Gaia, what would he do? How could he continue knowing that maybe in each other, they could have found redemption?

                “What can I do?” Sephiroth asked. “Aerith told me that my time was up, and I was only granted a short…reprieve, I suppose…to learn about Lucrecia. She made it clear from the beginning I would have to come back.”

                Vincent had almost forgotten why he was there in the first place. “ _Do_ you have any more questions about her?”

                Sephiroth hesitated, and then shook his head. “I was obsessed with knowing where I came from…I think because I was obsessed with knowing why I am the way I am. Jenova made sense to me. But now…where you’re from isn’t so important as all that, is it?”

                “No,” Vincent agreed. “It’s not.”

                “I think just knowing that she was a good person…and would have loved me, if she could have…is enough for me,” he concluded. “The rest does not matter.”

                Vincent ran a hand through his hair, an idea sparking in his brain. “How will Gaia know when you’re done, when you’re ready? Aerith said your soul needed to be at peace…”

                Sephiroth considered it. “I supposed she assumed you would kill me when the time came.”

                Vincent thought back. “No. No, she specifically told me _not_ to kill you. _I_ said I would kill you. What if I just…don’t?”

                “Perhaps I’ll simply die,” Sephiroth said. “Gaia might send something, someone, after me, to keep the world at rights.”

                Vincent sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want to kill you. It will be one more sin. But…if you ask me to – if you tell me to – I will.”

                There was silence for a moment. “I want to stay,” Sephiroth said finally. “I feel…guilt, I think…for wanting it, but gods, I want to stay with you.”

                “Then I won’t kill you. You were SOLDIER, the _General_ of SOLDIER. I’m an immortal with the power of Chaos. I don’t know what Gaia will do or send after you, but whatever it is, there is nobody else on the Planet that could put up as big of a fight as we could. Let’s do it. Let’s just…see.”

                “And that’s what you want?”

                Vincent joined Sephiroth on the bed. “More than anything, it’s what I want. Everything else can be handled. We will handle it. But please…don’t leave me.”

                Sephiroth kissed him. Stone cold sober, he reached over and kissed Vincent, natural as a heartbeat, necessary as air. This one day had been the difference, the tipping point between the result of a sick experiment on a fetus and human being who was learning how to feel. If it had happened sooner, who knew what could have happened? Who knew how things could have been?

                “A Mako-enhanced General, and an immortal,” Sephiroth mused. “This is going to be interesting.”

                Vincent smiled.  “I certainly hope so.”

                They had no idea what they were going to do next – what would Gaia do, what would She send to right this? There were so many questions and uncertainties, but they had no possible answers, and none were available tonight, so they did the only thing that soldiers can do when the details of their mission are not yet available – slept. They slept with their limbs intertwined and breathing synchronized, the waist length silver hair tangling together with the black. It wasn’t the easy, comfortable sleep of newlyweds, those deeply in love who fear nothing because what can go wrong as long as you have each other, protected by the very depth of your feelings?

Their sleep was uneasy, and they were both primed for conflict even in unconsciousness. The danger was coming, although neither of them could know what form it would take. Knowing it would come – but not knowing what to expect – left them feeling off-kilter, the feeling that would have been fear if either of them were prone to fear.  It was like watching the ground open up, like waiting for the unknowable to be made solid. It was like a heartbreak, before it happened.

                It was the sleep of the damned.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is finished for now, but if the reception is pretty good I might add a sequel to it. Let me know if there's anything you want to request!


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